


Twelve Years Later

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Series: How Jedi Mourn [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression mention, GFY, Gen, Kix has had it with Jedi mental health procedures, Obi-Wan needs to vent real bad, Obiqui is only briefly mentioned and onesided, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin is happy to be on Naboo for leave.<br/>The clones are happy to be on Naboo for leave.</p><p>Obi-Wan is...less happy.</p><p>Kix is ready to fight the entire Jedi Order, once he stumbles upon the General, deep in the lower levels of Theed Palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> So this got away from me /really/ quickly. All I was going to do was write down the idea I had for a scene before I went to bed, and then suddenly everything went down the angst pit.

Kix was not sure why he ended up there; down in the bowels of the Theed Palace. Honestly, he had been looking for the library that Senator Amidala had mentioned earlier. The 501st and the 212th had both been given leave, and the Naboo, through the Senator, had extended an offer of hospitality that General Skywalker had been more than happy to accept.  
  
Kix snorted, turning another corner and passing through a doorway that appeared to lead to a hanger of some sort. As if they didn’t know why the General was so excited. There wasn’t a man among the 501st who wasn’t aware of the “secret” relationship going on between their general and the Naboo senator. Not, of course, that anything could persuade them to share that information, but they weren’t blind. It was honestly hard to miss the way Skywalker lit up when her name was mentioned or when they were graced with her (frankly quite lovely) presence, or the way he panicked at the thought of her being at any sort of risk. Frankly, Kix didn’t understand why the two didn’t just make it public already. Oh sure, the Jedi had their whole “No Attachments” bit, but he doubted even the Jedi Council would begrudge their people what little comfort they find at the moment. Or at least, he hoped; they were at war for kriffs sakes!  
  
Still chuckling softly at the besotted look Skywalker had been sporting last he’d seen him, Kix moved through the hanger, ducking in through the next doorway he saw, still on the hunt for the elusive Royal Library he had heard so much about.  
  
Only a few steps later, and the medic was pretty confident in stating that this was not the path he was looking for. Stopping, Kix glanced around, swearing softly in Mando’a under his breath. This place was maze! After a few more moments of swearing, he sighed. Oh well, might as well keep going. Eventually he would either end up somewhere he recognized, or run into someone who actually knew the layout of the damned place and could point him in the right direction.  
  
After a few more turns, and a couple cat-walks, Kix found himself in a short hallway. Machinery hummed behind the metal plating of the walls, but as he moved forwards another sound reached Kix’s ears, one that made him stop and cock his head, straining to hear it better.  
  
A voice, low and almost inaudible beneath the background noise of whatever machinery this part of the Palace housed, but loud enough to be recognizable.  
  
_‘What in the world is General Kenobi doing down here?’_ Kix wondered, picking up his pace once again.  
  
The hallway opened out into a wide room. A large pit occupied the center of the floor. The hum of machines was louder here. For some unknown reason, the whole thing sent a cold shiver up Kix’s spine, and he was filled with the sense that something had happened here, in this room - something far from pleasant.  
  
His eyes fell on the hunched form a few meters away. General Kenobi was sitting with his back to the metal wall. His legs were bent, forehead resting against his knees, and there was a bottle hanging loosely from the hand Kix could see. He was talking to himself, but as Kix took another step into the chamber, the Jedi’s head snapped up, his eyes locking on the clone with an almost startling intensity.  
  
“Kix.”  
  
“Er, General.” Kix halted in his steps, suddenly struck by the sense that he was intruding on something deeply personal, and shocked by the tear-tracks that stained the other man’s pale skin. “Are you alright?”  
  
Kenobi nodded sharply, swiping a hand almost violently across his face and pushing himself to his feet. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Can I help you with something?”  
  
And wasn’t that one of the most blatant pieces of bantha-shite Kix had ever heard? Slowly, he began to walk forwards again, moving like one would when approaching a skittish animal. “No Sir. I just got a bit turned around. Are you sure you’re alright?” He glanced at the bottle, realizing it was only a quarter full. He wondered just how much there had been to begin with. How long had Kenobi been down here?  
  
“I-”  
  
“Sir,” Kix interrupted, “With all due respect, don’t say you’re fine. I never did have you pegged for a liar.”  
  
If the general took offense to what most might have interpreted as disrespect, he gave no sign. Instead, the ginger-haired man heaved a sigh that shook a little near the end and slumped back down against the wall. Slowly, Kix closed the rest of the distance between them, and sat down next to the Jedi.  
  
Kenobi would not meet his eyes. “I...did not expect anyone would come down here.”  
  
Kix glanced at the bottle now sitting between them. “I can see that. What’s happened, Sir?”  
  
Kenobi shook his head. “It’s really nothing, Kix. I’ll be alright soon enough. Please, don’t let me take up your leave.”  
  
Kix snorted, shooting the Jedi a look that was damn near healer universal; the one that said 'You and I both know you are full of shit so stop lying through your teeth and talk to me so I can fucking help you!'. “All due respect, Sir, but it’s my job to ensure the health and safety, both mental and physical, of my men, and-“ he held up a hand as the general opened his mouth to protest, “Right now that duty extends to all the members of the GAR on Naboo; clones, _and_ Jedi.”  
  
Then his expression softened a little, and he reached out to lay a gentle hand on Kenobi’s shoulder. “Something is clearly wrong. Will you talk to me, General? If not, can I go find someone you would be more comfortable with? Cody, or General Sky-“  
  
“No!” Kix blinked at the sharp response. Kenobi had tensed under his hand, and was shaking his head vehemently.  
  
“No,” he said again, softer, “Don’t…” a frustrated exhale, “Let Anakin enjoy his time with Padme. He doesn’t need my misery ruining his chance to spend time with his wife.”  
  
It was not surprising that Kenobi knew as well. Kix frowned again, “General, what-“  
  
“Obi-Wan.”  
  
Kix blinked. “Pardon?”  
  
Kenobi dropped his head back against the wall. “Obi-Wan. My name, it’s Obi-Wan.” He smiled, the expression bitter and self-deprecating. “If you…if you really want to know, you might as well call me by my name. Hate being called ‘General’.”  
  
The Jedi took a swig from the bottle he was still holding, and closed his eyes. “Twelve years.”  
  
Kix stayed silent, watching the general, a touch warily, and waited for the man to elaborate.  
  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, and they were shining with more unshed tears. “It’s been twelve years to the day since I was last in this room. In this,” his free hand tightened into a shaking fist, “Sith-spawned, _dar’yaim, ru’talyc_ room!”  
  
He took another long swig before speaking again, the words pouring out in torrent of rage and grief, the likes of which Kix had never seen from a Jedi before.  
  
“I lost everything in this room! In one moment,” Obi-Wan made a snatching motion in the air with his hand, “gone. The man who trained me, the man I loved, gone!”  
  
The bottle was slammed down hard onto the durasteel floor, Kix was more than a little impressed when it did not break. Obi-Wan curled in on himself even more, as if trying to physically stem the flow of words, his voice hitching and rough.  
  
“I never…I never got to tell him. ‘Train the boy, Obi-Wan,’ that was the last thing he said to me. Twelve years at his side, and that-“ the Jedi’s voice broke, “Was the last thing he said to me, as I held him in my arms and begged him to let me in, to let me help him, to just fucking stay with me!” He pressed his face into his hands.  
  
Before Kix’s eyes, High General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, was falling apart, shattering more and more with every breath. As he watched, the medic was struck with a horrifying realization that quickly shifted to a numb certainty. He was witnessing the result of twelve years-worth of pent up grief, hurt, confusion, and anger. For fucks sakes, how had no one dealt with this before?  
  
Obi-Wan was speaking again, voice muffled slightly by his hands and knees. “I tried. I tried so kriffing hard to keep my promise. And I did! Anakin is a knight, and one day, he’ll be a master. But gods!” the now nearly empty bottle at his side went flying, thrown by an unseen hand, and shattered against the opposite wall, “I never- I just-“  
  
He was shaking, his breath coming fast and rough. Working himself into a panic; Kix had seen it many times before, generally with Shinys after their first battle gone to hell or after losing a batch-mate for the first time. Kix moved without thinking, scooting closer and wrapping his arms tightly around the older man, pulling him close. Obi-Wan let out a broken sob, curling into the embrace like a lost child. Seeing the Jedi so utterly shattered made Kix’s heart ache in his chest, and he held on all the tighter, rocking the man gently and murmuring softly.  
  
Eventually, Obi-Wan ran out of tears, his sobs subsiding, replaced by hitching breaths. Nevertheless, Kix did not loosen his hold. Finally, when the Jedi’s breathing was something closer to normal, the medic spoke up.  
  
“Will you tell me about him? Your master?”  
  
There was a long pause, and he felt the man tense in his arms. One of his hands had slipped into Kenobi’s copper hair at some point, and now he pulled it away, rubbing the man’s back in a show of silent comfort and reassurance.  
  
“It’s alright, Obi-Wan. You’re okay.”  
  
The pause lasted a few more heart-beats, and then Kix felt Obi-Wan relax again. When he spoke, his voice was soft and almost steady, if a little rough.  
  
“I met him when I was twelve…”  
  
And that was how Kix learned about the life of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had no idea how long they sat there, Obi-Wan curled in the circle of Kix’s arms, head tucked under the clone’s chin. Once or twice he had begun to pull away, but the medic had tightened his hold each time and Kenobi had relaxed back, almost as if he was relieved. Obi-Wan talked, and Kix listened. Now and again he would interject as Kenobi spoke of his childhood in the Jedi crèche (“They were going to send you away?!”), his early apprenticeship (“He just left you there?! You were just a kid, for fuck’s sakes!” “I disobeyed and be-“ “Bantha-shit! There is not a single good fucking reason for leaving a kid in the middle of a fucking war-zone!”), and all that came after. He told Kix about his master Qui-Gon’s padawan-gone-bad, and about the death of the Jedi he called Tahl, and the months and years that followed.  
  
The more Obi-Wan talked about this Qui-Gon Jinn, the more and more Kix wondered how in all the hells he had never received help for depression, at the very least, if not PTSD and a whole score of other things as well. He did not doubt Kenobi’s claims that Jinn was a good man, and was glad to hear that their relationship had improved significantly throughout the years, but for fuck’s sakes, it was so obvious the man had been struggling, badly, more than once!  
  
But then again, Kix though wryly, if the Jedi Temple handled even the basics of mental health, he doubted he would have been sitting next to melting pit, holding a Jedi who had been knighted too soon after a loss like his and made to carry too many futures on his shoulders all at once, while he cried and screamed out all the pain and injustice that had been served to him throughout his life.  
  
It was no surprise to Kix when Obi-Wan finally fell asleep. The man had been thrown to the emotional Saarlac, and the deep bags under his eyes were more than enough to tell the medic just how little sleep he had gotten lately. With a sigh, Kix pulled out his comm and punched in a code.  
  
_“Cody here.”_  
  
“I’ve got your general,” Kix said, voice low so as not to disturbed the exhausted Jedi sleeping with his head on Kix’s shoulder.  
  
Cody seemed to take the hint, lowering his own voice accordingly. _“General Kenobi? Is he alright?”_  
  
“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s…well, he’s a bit of a wreck right now, but he’s asleep, and if we let him stay that way for as long as possible, he should at least be functional.” Kix looked around, “We’re down in a melting chamber, near Hanger Bay One, I believe. I’d bring him to you, but I can’t actually get up without jostling him, and I don’t want to wake him up.”  
  
Cody clearly understood. _“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_  
  
Kix nodded, “Thanks, _Vod_.”  
  
_“Thank you, Kix.”_  
  
The line went dead, and Kix gave vent to a sigh, looking down at the man still curled in his arms. When he was asleep, Obi-Wan looked younger, the lines on his face and the hard set of his lips and brows softening. The ache in Kix’s chest returned with a vengeance. How no one had seen the pain and heartbreak Kenobi had been dealing with was beyond him. Kix scowled at the thought that the Jedi could be so blind to the needs of one of their own. His mind more than made up, the clone medic relax back against the wall, one hand absently carding the sleeping Jedi’s hair as he waited for Cody’s arrival.  
  
Clearly, Obi-Wan had no one looking out for him, no one acting as the support system everyone needed. Unacceptable. Kix’s determination settled around him like his armor. That changed, right now. They, the 501st, the 212th, all their brothers, they looked after their own. And look after their own they would. Kix would make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> Dar’yam - a hell, a place you want to forget  
> Ru’talyc - Bloodstained (past tense)  
> Vod - Brother, friend, sibling

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] Twelve Years Later](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6826777) by [KeeperofSeeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofSeeds/pseuds/KeeperofSeeds)




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